The Awakening
by Tes
Summary: Didn't like the way this was going, so changed it. Dis is now Diana. For those who've read the old Chap 3, just pretend it didn't happen. That'll come later in the plot. New chapter uploaded
1. Diana Lucis Lux

*Dianaclaimer: Sara, Irons and Ian (and anyone else from Witchblade) are not mine!! But  
  
Drusilla and Diana *are*, so if you steal them, I will eat you.  
  
*Notes: Will eventually be Ian/Sara, so keep your pants on! Set in sort of Season Three  
  
where everyone is alive (except Danny), and Sara knows how Ian was made and how Irons  
  
keeps himself young. Diana Lux Lucis can be roughly translated from Latin to Diana Light  
  
  
  
Sara meandered in to the office. "Irons? We need to talk!" Every time she touched  
  
someone, the Witchblade started to glow. It was getting extremely hard to explain. Since  
  
it was evident Irons wasn't here, so she decided to have a look around.  
  
Her attention was drawn immediately to a plain manila folder sitting forlornly on  
  
the edge of the desk. She drew it over to her and flipped open the cover. At her first touch  
  
on the pages, Sara knew Irons was in his study, standing in front of the fireplace, talking  
  
to Ian. She glanced down at the pages then. A strange picture she had come to know as  
  
the symbol for the disbanded Black Dragons stared up at her from the crisp white pages,  
  
along with the cryptic message- Diana Lux Lucis.  
  
` *************************************  
  
  
  
Sara burst into the fire-lit room. "What is Diana Lux Lucis," she demanded.  
  
Irons turned away from the fire, the light sparkling through his glass of white wine.  
  
Ian stood behind him, eyes downcast and hands clasped before him-his usual stance. "Ian,"  
  
Irons said impassively, "I thought I told you to put that file away."  
  
"I am sorry, sir. I was distracted," Ian said softly.  
  
Irons rang a bell and a young boy hurried in. The millionaire whispered something  
  
in the servant's ear and the boy hustled out again. Moments later, a young woman  
  
sauntered in. "That," Irons murmured, "is Diana Lux Lucis." The woman was younger  
  
than Sara, probably 25 or so. Her dark hair was tied black and her dark, nearly black eyes  
  
were locked on Irons' face, a direct contrast to the way Ian faced the same man. Though,  
  
like Ian, she wore all black, complete with black trench coat.  
  
"You called for me?" Unlike Ian again, she used no honorary in addressing Irons.  
  
Irons scowled ever so slightly. "Diana, Sara wished to meet you." The  
  
woman's attention focused on Sara now. She nodded, a small half-smile curling her full  
  
lips. "Diana is my second attempt to create a weapon like Ian." Sara's eyes flicked  
  
from Ian to Irons and then back again to Ian. His face was blank and expressionless as  
  
always. "She is my spy. She goes where I can not. She is also," now his gaze rested on his  
  
creation with pride, "the youngest female to have completed the Black Dragon training.  
  
Like Ian, she is also made from genetic material from one of your predecessors, Sara."  
  
"Then is she Ian's," Her brow furrowed with a frown as she groped for the right  
  
word, "sister?  
  
"No," the woman interrupted, though Irons glared at her for her audacity. "I was  
  
not made from Emily Bronte."  
  
"You will pleased to know, Sara," Irons drawled, ignoring Diana, "that the grave of  
  
one of the earliest wielders has been found. The tomb of Cleopatra was found some time  
  
ago. Diana was created from her genes."  
  
"She doesn't look Egyptian," Sara remarked.  
  
Irons chuckled disdainfully. "Cleopatra was a Ptolemy. She was Macedonian  
  
Greek."  
  
"If I'm around, surely there are others descended from Cleopatra. Why didn't you  
  
use genes from one of them? Surely that would have been just as effective." Sara eyed Diana  
  
with uncertainty. She'd learned to cope with how Ian was made, but to deal with another  
  
like him... Sara think she could take it.  
  
"He did to impress Drusilla," Diana said suddenly, pointed to the library loft.  
  
Irons glared and raised a fist to strike her. "Irons!" A sharp female voice called from  
  
the stairs. A tall woman stood in a wine-colored silk dress on the top step. Long black  
  
curls spiraled over her shoulder and her brilliant blue eyes riveted Irons in place.  
  
Drusilla descended in silence and moved to stand between Irons and his  
  
would-be-victim. "By all rights," the strange woman said to Sara, ignoring the irate man  
  
behind her, "Diana should be my aunt. Cleopatra was my grandmother."  
  
Sara choked. "But that would make you nearly 2000 years old!"  
  
Drusilla laughed sadly. "I keep myself alive the way Kenneth does. The blood of  
  
the women who wield the blade and brief contact with the Witchblade has sustained me  
  
through the centuries." Her eyes flicked to the bracelet on Sara's wrist. "My mother  
  
thought I would be the next to wield it."  
  
Sara extended her hand, feeling slightly awkward compared to this ancient woman with the stones to take on Irons. "Sara Pezzini," she said. Drusilla grinned and took the proffered hand. When the two women clasped hands, the Witchblade began to glow warmly, as though welcoming Drusilla. Sara looked down at the bracelet in shock. "I think it likes you." 


	2. Getting to Know You.....

Disclaimer: Not mine, dammit!  
  
Notes: ~~images~~, also Drusilla is my character, from a novel I'm working on. She is not  
  
"borrowed" from Buffy. There actually was a granddaughter of Cleopatra named Drusilla. If  
  
you don't believe me, look it up!  
  
Sara reclined back in one of the leather chairs by the fire. "You know everything  
  
about me if you've been working with Irons, so now I want to know about you." Drusilla  
  
lounged from the other chair and clasped her hand tightly. Sara was drowned by a wave of  
  
confusing images and sounds. The Witchblade glowed and sparked before Drusilla  
  
released her.  
  
"You've never tried this with Kenneth before, have you?" she asked laughingly.  
  
"All you usually see from others is limited flashes you can easily make sense out of. The  
  
Witchblade is waking up. Reacting to the world around. I suggest you try this with  
  
Kenneth, too. It can be very informative."  
  
"What..why...what the hell was that!" Sara exclaimed angrily.  
  
"It...she wants you to get to know me. This is how she always reacts to those like  
  
Kenneth and I, those she's had contact with before." Drusilla chuckled at the befuddled  
  
look on Sara's face.  
  
Sara glared angrily. Old though she may be, she had no right to laugh at her  
  
confusion. "You're the only one I know who refers to Kenneth by his first name. Why?"  
  
Drusilla flushed and looked away as Sara was assaulted by images the Witchblade  
  
provided. ~~Long fingers running through silver hair, kisses, two bodies entwining.~~  
  
"Whoa!" Sara shouted, voice echoing hollowly. "I did not need to see that!"  
  
"You saw the arms dealer's report on him a while ago. 'Subject is extremely  
  
sexually active,' " she quoted, in a matter of fact tone, but still didn't look Sara in the face.  
  
"Your name was the only one on the list you paid attention to, but if you'd looked closer  
  
you would have seen a reference to D. Felix." Sara was flashed a picture of the disk she'd  
  
looked over before Ian had made his shocking announcement. In the list of Irons' sexual  
  
partner was picture of Drusilla reading in Irons' library, along with the name she had  
  
mentioned.  
  
"So you were lovers," Sara stated dumbly. Drusilla nodded. "So what else did you  
  
do for him?" Her voice was getting colder by the second, as she revised her opinions the  
  
more she learned of the other woman's connections to Irons.  
  
"I signed a contract with him. I looked for the graves of the women who wielded  
  
the blade and he provided me with whatever resources I need." Including a bed with him,  
  
Sara added silently. "I only met Ian once, when Kenneth was just starting with him." ~~A  
  
very young Ian bowed to Drusilla, who immediately turned to Irons. "You've created a  
  
monster, Kenneth!" she yelled at him.~~  
  
"So I left. I was exploring Egypt when I found Cleopatra's tomb a few miles away  
  
from where Alexandria used to be. I brought the mummy back to Kenneth, like I'd  
  
promised to do. I stayed with him for about a year. Then he made Diana," Drusilla frowned  
  
sadly. "I'd been happy then. But I didn't want to see Diana turn into a servantile zombie like  
  
Ian was, so I left again and hid out in Scotland. I came back to renew my contract with  
  
Kenneth fifteen years later."  
  
~~As Drusilla walked into Irons' office and a knife thudded into the doorframe by  
  
her head. A teenage girl stood poised, her hand still in the throwing position. Irons  
  
clapped sardonically. "Good shot, Diana," he drawled. Drusilla expected Diana to return  
  
to a submissive pose, as Ian always did, but she remained upright. Something that clearly  
  
did not sit well with Irons.~~ "We bonded, Diana and I. She was more human than Ian had  
  
seemed to me. I trained her too, when I was not with Kenneth." Sara could imagine, after  
  
fifteen years of being apart. "I ran off again when he sent Diana to the Black Dragons."  
  
Drusilla shook her head slightly, as if coming out of a trance. Sara blinked. Her  
  
life didn't sound that spectacular, the incredible age aside. Mostly digging up graves,  
  
knocking boots with Irons and then running off to dig up more graves again. "Well that  
  
still doesn't emplain how you got to be so old," Sara remarked.  
  
"My mother was a Witchblade fanatic. She thought...that feeding me the blood of  
  
Cleopatra would make me some sort of goddess. I don't know how she got the blood,"  
  
Drusilla glanced at Sara, finally locking eyes again, "so don't ask. My mother herself  
  
couldn't try it, she would be considered evil. But me, as the legitimate daughter of the  
  
king, could be a goddes, Anyway, it didn't work. My father's subjects weren't fooled and  
  
branded me a demon." ~~Torches burning, fear, pain.~~ "I married Marcus Antonius  
  
Felix, a roman governor of Judea, as quickly as I could to escape. He had learned my  
  
secret from my mother and continued it on me, and started it on himself. When he was  
  
murdered, I left Judea and wandered for several years.  
  
"You must understand, the pure, undiluted blood of a blade-wielder is immensely  
  
powerful and a drop would last for years at a time, a secret I have never shared with  
  
Kenneth. But eventually I ran out. I lived for most of 2000 years as an old crone, hiring  
  
strong men to dig up graves for me. I was disgusted by what I'd become, but I didn't want  
  
to die. Eventually I went to America and encountered Kenneth. When he realized how old  
  
old I really was, he pumped me full of whatever it is he uses, until I look the way I do  
  
now." she swept her hands in front of her to indicate the body of a 27 year old. "The rest  
  
you already know."  
  
"You said you'd contacted the blade before. How'd that happen?"  
  
"After Cathain died, I encountered some of her friends. They were keeping the  
  
Witchblade in trust until the next wielder came to claim it. They thought that would be me,  
  
despite the fact that I looked like I was ancient at the time." she paused, her eyes glazing  
  
over, rubbing the cicular scars on her hand. "It was the oddest sensation when they put it on  
  
my wrist. It glowed warmly when I first put it on. I think it thought I might somehow be my  
  
grandmother. Then it was confused, then angry. It scarred me the same way it did Kenneth. Then  
  
it started to laugh. Ever since, I've occasionally gotten flashes of the women who wield it.  
  
That's usually how I find them. But it didn't work with you."  
  
"Then how'd you get here, of all the places I could've been?"  
  
Drusilla shrugged. "It was a hunch." ~~Sara shook her hand, the Witchblade glowing in  
  
the light. "My mother thought I would be the next to wield it."~~ 


	3. The New Chapter

Title: The Awakening-  
  
Author: Wicked Princess Rating: PG-13 Disclaimer: The cast of Witchblade belongs to God (Marc Silvestri), Moo! (Top Cow), Blam! (TNT), and any others who have rights to them. Summary: Author's Note: Oops. Somehow all my writing of Jake turns into Jake- bashing. Sorry. AN3: The use of 'Notty' is from IANsanity (wormieness.com). AN4: Crap! I've started writing Drusilla as a Mary-Sue! AN5: Yes, hair chopsticks do occasionally come with instruction manuals. Now, on with the story!  
  
Sara sipped at a cup of the swill that passed for coffee in her precinct. They really should consider buying a quality coffee machine. She slunk into her desk, eyeing her paperwork with immense hatred. "Hey, Pez. You're late." She swiveled in her chair to glare at Jake.  
  
Sara muttered something that sounded like an insult.  
  
The blond rookie smiled as he slid into his chair. "You seem especially grumpy today. What's up? You have a bad night last night?"  
  
"Yeah. Made some new friends, too." She rolled her eyes; the thought of the previous night's events had not been so pleasant. And then the Witchblade had shown her more images of her new friends' lives. "So what do we have today?"  
  
Jake held up a file, paging through it. "Some billionaires are having a reception for a Nobel Prize winning scientist, Dr. Immo or something. We've got a tip from a snitch that some fanatics who don't like his work are gonna take out the scientist, and take his very rich friends with him. The reception's tonight. Dante wants us undercover."  
  
Sara sighed and asked, "Who's hosting it?" However, she was fairly sure she already knew the answer.  
  
"Kenneth Irons, your friend from Vorschlag Industries." Jake flashed her a winning smile. "So, what do you say? Wanna be my date?"  
  
"Sure, Jake. "  
  
Her partner shrugged and they got back to the daily grind. Sara found herself squirming and constantly checking the clock in impatience. For some reason, she could not seem to get into the swing of things today. Maybe last night had wierded her out more than she realized. But thinking out last night only made her more impatient to leave. She was even very happy to see Dante when he appeared at five o'clock to tell her and Jake to report back at the office in two hours for their orders. Sara jumped on her bike, eager to be leaving, and sped back to her apartment.  
  
The phone was ringing as she opened the door, and she was not surprised to find Ian was calling her as she answered the insistent ringing. "Hey, Nottingham. What's up?"  
  
"My master is holding a reception for a Nobel Prize winner tonight. He would appreciate it if you were to come." He paused a moment, sounding as if he was unsure whether to continue. "He has sent something for you to wear." Sara choked back an angry retort. "He would be most honored if you would accept his gift."  
  
She narrowed her eyes, as if she could glare down the phone lines to her unseen caller. She was only vaguely amazed when her doorbell rang. She was startled that Ian had managed to time the delivery with his call. "Wow. Quick service. I'm flattered," she quipped as she opened the door.  
  
Ian took the cordless phone from her hand and ended the call before handing it back to her. He slipped his own cell phone into his pocket and stepped into her apartment. Ian didn't acknowledge her presence, instead choosing to lay his parcels and packages on her counter before turning back to her.  
  
"Good day, my lady."  
  
"For once, you actually knocked." She looked over his darkly clad shoulder to his packages. "So what did your master send you with?"  
  
Ian glanced up from his subservient pose. "You may see for yourself, my lady."  
  
Sara stepped past him, lightly brushing against Ian's overcoat. "Thanks." Sara turned back to thank him, but he was already gone. She shook her head in resignation. "That is really annoying." She turned back to her packages, half-dreading what they contained.  
  
The first parcel was unwrapped to reveal a black dress. Sara sighed as the silk slid sensually over her fingers. She unfolded the dress and took a moment to admire it in the bathroom mirror. It was slightly above knee length, with a high Chinese neck, and designs embroidered in black thread. Her breath caught in her throat as she realized how much the dress must have cost.  
  
The other packages yielded black high-heeled sandals, a black sheer wrap, and hair-sticks. She regarded the sticks with confusion, perplexed as how to use them. She rejoiced to see that they came with an instruction manual. She smiled to think just how well Ian knew her.  
  
She clearing away the bags and paper that had contained her new outfit when a small package dropped to the ground. She stuffed the trash into her waste bin and picked up the last of Ian's presents. Carefully unwrapping the small box, she found that it contained a beautiful necklace and a pair of earrings.  
  
Sara gasped when she examined the jewelry, the stones were a deep red, probably ruby, and cut in a way that eerily matched the Witchblade. She looked from the necklace to her bracelet and then back again. Freaky.The necklace was Y-shaped and wrought in silver, circling her neck, then drooping down to rest between her breasts. The earrings dangled to brush the sides of her neck, but were not so long as to hinder movement. Sara pursed her lips together, not sure whether she should appreciate the gift from her dark stalker or be freaked out by it.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
Jake was astounded as his normally casual partner appeared. The black silk dress she wore clung to her like a second skin, accentuating her curves for the entire world to see. Her hair was done in some type of twist, held in place by two chopsticks, which very much confused Jake. Chopsticks, in hair? The jewelry she wore seemed to perfectly match her ever-present bracelet. Jake felt of rush of envy for. Any man who got his hands on Sara would be a lucky man indeed. "Wow, Pez. You look great." She smiled and Jake suddenly felt like an angel had smiled upon him.  
  
"Thanks, Rookie."  
  
"So, am I your date or what?" Sara's mouth twitched, almost imperceptibly. Jake grabbed at any likely excuse "Dante said it has to seem like it for our appearance to be convincing." Sara's mouth twitched again; the smile was forcing its way to the surface. "What about that guy who works for Irons, the one who follows you around? Is he going to be there?" He knew Nottingham had a thing for Sara and would most likely hold her attention all night, so Jake prayed she'd say no, so he could have her all to himself that evening.  
  
"He'll be there."  
  
Sara felt Ian's eyes on her as soon as she entered the room. It was suddenly as if her partner, as well as everyone else in the room, had disappeared, leaving only herself and Ian. The Witchblade sparked and she was thrust into a vision. ~~She and Ian regarded each other across a bloody field. They were both in armor. Suddenly, he dropped his sword, stripping off his helmet, and crossed the field. She took off her own helmet and walked to meet him. Vision-Ian gathered against him in a passionate kiss.~~ "What?" She was dragged out of her reverie as she realized that Jake was talking to her.  
  
"I said, I'll make a circuit of the room." Jake smiled, his best smile, hoping to catch her attention, but soon realized that she was too disconnected from him to take notice. She must be having one of those weird moments again. Just walk away, McCartey. And so he did, circling the room, checking for any suspects.  
  
Sara never noticed her partner leave her, and made her way through the press of people to stand besides Ian, against the wall on the other side of the room. "Hey," she greeted him casually.  
  
Ian looked up from his defensive stance, his eyes darkening as he surveyed her. "You look ravishing, my lady. I am glad everything fits."  
  
Sara sneered. "Yeah, you, too." She glanced down at her silk dress and fancy shoes. Not to mention the jewels that hung from her neck and ears. "But thank you. Or rather, your master."  
  
"I am glad you like it. I picked them out myself, Lady Sara."  
  
The Witchblade tingled on her wrist and both she and Ian turned to look at the couple that had just entered the hall. They greeted everyone with confidence and charm, a couple equally matched in their power and influence. Drusilla wore a dark blue gown, the silk cascading down her body like a sapphire waterfall. Irons wore a tailored black suit with a blue silk tie that matched Drusilla's gown and both their eyes. A pair of brilliant sapphire cufflinks accented his ensemble. They were indeed beautiful together. If Sara had ever doubted that they were together, they way they dressed would have confirmed to her that they were lovers.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
Jake instantly knew that if anything went down tonight, it would go down around the host of this shindig and his girlfriend. Try as he might, Jake couldn't find a time to speak with her alone, to assure her that the police had the situation well in hand. This was mostly due to the possessive arm that Irons kept around her waist. Drusilla herself seemed reluctant to leave his side. He saw his moment come when she was coerced to leave Irons while he discussed a private business matter. Jake was not to be detoured and approached her.  
  
But unfortunately, Jake's way was blocked a gaggle of chit-chatting old ladies, and when he finally made his way around them, a young woman was speaking to Drusilla in an obviously urgent tone. The young woman wore a dark pantsuit, a small V embroidered on the breast pocket. Jake deduced her to be some sort of bodyguard.  
  
Diana bowed slightly as Irons rejoined Drusilla, noting the way their fingers twined together as their hands met. Good. Her job was always easier when they were in good moods. At Irons' nod, she began her report. "Right now there is a blond man, most likely a cop, whom has been watching Mistress for quite some time now. All exits and entrances have been secured. The regular security team is patrolling as we speak."  
  
"Good. Leave them to it." Diana nodded, acknowledging her master's orders, but her thoughts were else where. She glanced to Ian's position and saw that he too was distracted. He must feel it too. She looked up towards the balcony that hung off the west wall. Just tgen, ten men toting machine guns, appeared on the balcony with Immo as their hostage. 


	4. Interludes/Heart to Heart

Chapter 3: Interludes/Heart to Heart  
  
  
  
Disclaimers: Again, not mine! Not even Homer's Odyssey. But, as you should know by  
  
now, Dis and Drusilla both are.  
  
Notes: This is just trying something out, so tell me how you like it.  
  
  
  
Ian sat on the roof top, arms wrapped around his knees, as much as to keep in  
  
warmth as to comfort himself. Drusilla always brought with her memories of his  
  
childhood, when his training was just started. And in her turbulent wake, Irons was always  
  
more angry and apt to punish Ian. He looked up as a footstep crunched on the roof tile.  
  
Diana stood behind him. The sharp wind blew her trench coat around her ankles and  
  
plucked tendrils of her hair and blew them back into her face. "You should come in now  
  
Ian," she said, eyes locked on the horizon. "It's getting cold."  
  
  
  
It was one of those companionable silences, where talk would have ruined the  
  
mood. Ian was sprawled on the thick carpet with a copy of Homer's Odyssey. Diana leaned  
  
against his side, facing the fire, with a laptop balanced on her knees. Above the roar of the  
  
fire, neither noticed the entrance of Sara Pezzini.  
  
"Uh, sorry," Sara said and turned away, swallowing hastily. "I didn't mean to  
  
interrrupt anything." Sara spun and stalked away. Ian breathed her name and rolled out  
  
from under Diana. The girl assassin cluthed her knees to keep from falling backwards but  
  
only ended up hitting her nose on the laptop keyboard.  
  
Ian caught Sara's arm as she practically ran from the room. "Sara, we're... I....  
  
she... we're not like that, Sara," he cried desperately, his dark eyes locked on her face.  
  
"It's okay, Ian," she said indifferently, looking away. "It doesn't really matter."  
  
"Sara, I..." He sighed and his eyes lowered. "Never mind, Lady Sara. "  
  
She scowled at the formal title. "What, Ian? Dammit, look at me!"  
  
Ian didn't move.  
  
Diana came up slowly behind the motionless assassin. She hooked her arm through  
  
Sara's, leading her away. "I'll explain everything."  
  
  
  
Diana reclined against a cushion on the floor, following Sara with her eyes as she  
  
paced restlessly in front of her. "So what's up with Ian?" Sara barked angrily.  
  
"Ian's like my big brother, Sara. We're not a couple."  
  
"Why should I care," Sara scoffed.  
  
"He's dying. "  
  
Sara spun around. "What," she cried, astonished.  
  
"It's a genetic disorder that Irons missed. He loves you but he's afraid to tell you. He has maybe a few weeks left, but he won't tell you how he feels because he thinks you'll either repudiate him or that he'll break your heart." She hung her head sadly; Sara stared in shock. "He'll be watching your place tonight, as usual. You might want to get there before him."  
  
Diana waited till Sara had left the mansion before she started to laugh.  
  
  
  
Sara tossed and turned nervously in her bed, lying in wait for when Ian took up his  
  
watch at her apartment. She shut her eyes and pretended to be asleep as her diligent  
  
sentinel leaned against the window. As soon as he looked away, Sara flung herself to the  
  
window and jerked it open, causing Ian to tumble in on her.  
  
"Oh, Ian! Did I hurt you?" Her hands ran over him gently, checking him for injuries.  
  
Ian was to shocked to stammer out a reply or even react to her. She helped him to his feet  
  
and sat him on the edge of her bed.  
  
"I...I love you, Ian." Ian looked absolutely astounded, then like he was about to say  
  
something. Sara clapped a hand over his mouth. "I know what you're about to say, Ian,  
  
and I don't care. No matter how long we have together, I love you." She bent down and  
  
replaced her hand with her lips.  
  
Ian tensed at her kiss, then relaxed into it, pulling her to him, both of them ending  
  
in a weird contortion of bodies. He pulled away reluctantly, but he had to know. "I love  
  
you, too, Sara. But what brought this on?" Sara looked away. as if looking at him pained  
  
her. She muttered something that Ian couldn't hear. "What?"  
  
"Diana told me...about your condition. I don't care if you only have a few weeks left!"  
  
Suddenly Ian started to laugh, the movement of his diaphragm pressing against Sara.  
  
"What's so funny? Dying isn't a laughing matter!"  
  
Ian shook with laughter. "I'm not dying. Diana was setting us up. She always  
  
complains I moon over you too much." Sara didn't particularly find the situation all that  
  
funny. In fact she was mighty peeved. Diana had caused her all that concern.... Sara took out  
  
her frustration on Ian as she pushed him onto his back and kissed him roughly.  
  
The assassin gasped in surprise at the angry whirlwind of motion that perched on  
  
top of him as his coat and shirt quickly came off. Quickly regaining control again, Ian  
  
rolled over, pinning Sara beneath him.  
  
* * * * * * *  
  
She wore a short silk nightgown, something you'd expect a millionaire's lover to  
  
wear. He froze for a moment when he saw her waiting for him; she looked like a marble  
  
statue in the moonlight. He buried his long fingers in her soft curls as she came into his  
  
arms.  
  
Irons sat down on the edge of the bed and Drusilla stradddled his lap. "How long  
  
will you be gone this time, Drusilla?" he asked. She looked away, but did not move from  
  
her position. "How long till you return to me after this," he asked again. His hands on her  
  
waist were tight and demanding. She squirmed against his hold, the black satin sheets  
  
bunching beneath her knees.  
  
"A couple of years means nothing to people like us, Kenneth." She buried her face  
  
against his neck, curls tickling his chin, one arm flung over his shoulder and caressing his  
  
back. Her other arm pulled at one of his until he releuctantly wrapped it around her waist.  
  
His free hand curled into her hair, pulling her head back until he could look her in the face.  
  
He growled something before he bent and kissed her savagely.  
  
"It matters to me."  
  
  
  
Sara gasped as Ian entered her. Later, she'd swear her screams had woken the  
  
whole neighborhood. She wasn't aware of the Witchblade of her wrist until it flared  
  
brightly, almost burning her skin. She was aasaulted by images from the bracelet, of Irons  
  
and Drusilla wrapped around each other. That image was overlaid with one of her and Ian,  
  
but Sara was too far gone in passion to notice the similarities.  
  
Irons was suddenly hit with a wave of ectasy, that obviously wasn't his because he  
  
had never personally had sex with Ian Nottingham before. He knew Drusilla felt it too,  
  
through her connection with the blade. "Kenneth," she groaned as her reactions to him,  
  
though tempered through time, changed dramatically.  
  
Within moments, the two pairs of lovers were mirroring each other, despite the  
  
space between them.  
  
  
  
When each couple, each in their respective boudoirs, layed curled together,  
  
something ancient stirred in the aftermath.  
  
It laughed. 


End file.
